Beyond the Heart of Outer Space
by Veelitann
Summary: Compilation of one chapter works about the relationship between Quatre and Trowa. Something complicated, based on fear, hatred, friendship, love, but not in the good order in the end. "What if...?" should be the main question. "I feel your fear," should be the main answer. "I understand your heart," should be their reality.
1. Congratulations

_I have not written for quite a moment, plus I have been writting Gundam Wing fanfictions for years now. But lately, it just became a urge, I missed it so much, I needed it. So here I am, with some short and sad story about our lonely blond pilot. A lot of people don't like Quatre because he's 'so annoying', 'too nice' and all of that. But what if we had to consider a part of him that we always forget, something he hide for dear life? What if, actually, he was just the saddest pilot from the five of them?_

 _Let me know what you thought, I'd really be happy to have some opinions, as a huge old Gundam Wing fan!_

 ** _AC 206_**

 _"Congrats, man."_

Those words were the most painful I had ever heard on that day, and let me tell you that I would have never thought this before. I was pretty sure that war had been the most terrible thing, that all those meetings, all those threats, _everything_ actually, had been the ugliest, the most terrible events in a man's life. In our lives.

I was wrong. I was just _so_ wrong.

On that particular day, you should be happy. I mean, that should be the happiest thing happening to a man, even in a time like this. War was still overwhelming all of us, but still you decided to do it nonetheless.

I didn't stop you.

I didn't even try to dissuade you.

Why? Maybe your smile when you announced it. You smiled, and oh, dear, how it was unusual coming from you! It was the first time, actually. When you told me, like some secret, your lips curved into that tiny and shy smile. I immediately knew that I would hate the news. Or rather, I actually already knew what it was about.

"I'm getting married."

You didn't know anything. You didn't know how this would hurt. You didn't know. Most of the time, I hated being a Newtype, I hated hiding my nature, I hated lying to you about who I was, about what I thought, about how I felt.

I wanted to cry, but as a man, I had to refrain myself in front of you. "Boys don't cry," as Duo would have said.

As your friend, I had to nod.

As your _best_ friend, I had to smile to all of this and be glad for you.

As your best man, I had to cheer you up on this special and amazing day.

And today was the day. We're not fifteen years old anymore. We didn't meet a few days ago. We aren't playing music together anymore while waiting for a new mission to start or mechanics to be done with our Gundams. For years, now.

Everyone here was happy. I could feel it. Even if it wasn't as much as the married couple, they were happy. Happy to see their friends starting something new. Duo was talking so much, even more than usual. He had left his tuxedo jacket for a while now, probably drunk as hell. The ceremony was over for hours, everyone eating and drinking in this huge house Relena had left for this occasion. Heero was still by Relena's side, sometimes checking for Duo in case the man would do something stupid - but I doubted that he would be able to even stand up from his chair for the next hours.

There weren't so many people. Not hundreds, of course. We were still rebels, or rather rebels _again_. The Preventers didn't last forever; after a few years, the Colonies found out about the secret company. Sometimes, I feel like something happened when we infiltrated the Barton Foundation, almost ten years ago , and at the same time I'm not sure about anything. Traitors or not within Preventers, life still goes on. And at the moment, even the Earth Sphere Unified Nation choose not to recognize us and act as if they never knew about our existence as one of their tools.

They dismissed the organisation _Preventers_ and started purchasing us one by one. No matter how helpful we had been for the world, for the Earth, for the Peace, we suddenly were dangerous. Even wishing for a peaceful world wasn't enough. We _knew_ , and it was already too much.

I sighed. All around me, the effervescence was making me quite nauseus. It wasn't my style at all as I was used to such receptions since childhood and even more. I was a Winner heir, after all. The only son, the only one who had to inherit when my father died, years ago from now. I hesitated for so long, before accepting my fate - taking his place at the head of Winner Corporation I mean.

From the corner of the room, I could see Wufei sitting on a chair. The man was as quiet as always, but he didn't let go of the small smile set in the corner of his lips since the begining of the ceremony, hours ago. It was something simple, something discret but present. But I knew that there was something else behind that little smile. The stream of feelings running through my heart and mind were just upside down, no matter how I tried to reject Wufei's train of thoughts. The sorrow that emanated from him was weird and somehow felt like mine. But it was was so different at the same time, more like some bitter nostalgia.

Yeah. It was like that. Cold bitter nostalgia running through _his_ veins, through _my veins_. His intimacy was being violated, as simply as that. By me. And he didn't even know about my presence in his feelings, in his inner heart, so deep that I could see what he was thinking, about _who_ he-

"Quatre! Here you were!"

I almost jumped at the voice, breaking violently the link I was slightly wovening between Wufei's heart and mine. His thoughts immediatly disappeared, the blank filling my mind for a second or two before I could understand what was happening in the real world, before I got taken away by two green rivers. Two deep green rivers that could take me away forever. I wish they had. For real.

I hated my newtype capacities. Especially when there was that flood of sweet happiness trying to climb through my veins when I didn't want. It was making me even sicker. His smile was making it even worse.

"You're pale, are you ok?"

 _Did you know that being so nice to me, since the first day, always led me to despair?_

I swallowed thickly, trying to get my thoughts back together and manage to smile, as much as possible. I might look weird, but well.

"That's nothing. You know, just kind of tired..."

He ran a hand on his face with a sigh. "I know what you mean."

 _No. You don't._

 _Smile_ , _Quatre_. More. You can do it. Don't look at the ring around his finger, the one he's already playing with his other hand, turning it again and again with a genuine smile.

"Mmmh, the wedding preparation, I guess?" I asked innocently.

"Kind of, but thanks to Relena and the Peacecraft building, I have to admit that it's better than what we thought!"

"She's a great friend."

He nodded silently. That was still a habit of his, and for a second I was feeling as if I was in front of the teenager I met when we were younger, stuck into a war that we never wanted to take part of. But now, everythin was different. Only our rebel status was finally back to the 'normal', if I could say it like that. We all knew that everything would be difficult from now on.

But soon, a ball of energy with auburn hair jumped on him, with huge and wet eyes looking at everything around.

"Trowa! Did you see? Did you see?"

He laughed softly, his arm circling her tiny shoulders. I envied her, I envied that flow of sweetness coming from him toward her. I envied the way she was able to steal his attention away from me with just a few words.

"What is it, Cathy?" His soft voice wasn't for me. But it was, years ago, when we were alone in some OZ prison cell. When anxiety was overwhelming us, when we were wondering if we were going to die soon, if they were going to torture us again and again or let us a few hours -even one would have been enough, before the second round. We were alone, just the two of us. I could remember his tiny arms around my shoulders every time I was having a panic attack. I could remember his voice in my ear, his tone low enough not to be heard by the soldier on the over side of the door. I could remember his chest against my head when his hand was holding me tightly, my ear on his heart, focusing on his _beating_ _heart_ , his fingers lost somewhere in my hair. I could remember his fingertips playing gently with the top of my head until I calmed down. But I couldn't remember how many times I cried in those moments, ruining his dark pull-over.

Cathy had the most crystalline laughter in the world. It was cute and at the same time awful to my ears.

"Relena's present!" she was babbling with excitation. "That's for the baby!"

I gulped in silence at the words and Trowa's smile grew even bigger.

I _knew_ , even before they did.

Trowa Barton and Catherine Bloom were together even before they both knew.

I was the first to know their mutual feelings.

Trowa Barton and Catherine Bloom were going to be parents soon.

I knew that fact even before the day Catherine started to feel the usual signs of pregnant women, months ago. Now, her belly wasn't as flat as before from far.

They were happy and they didn't even have to show it. I just _knew_.

And every day, I hated myself for being still alive and having that capacity. I felt like a intruder walking through people's mind and feelings. The _Heart of Outterspace_ was much more like a curse. What if, someday, someone had to find out?

What if Trowa happened to know?

What if-

"Oh, well, by the way, I still didn't tell you, you two!" I suddenly started. My voice sounded a little scratchy as I was cutting my own train of thoughts. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to talk in front of her. _To_ her.

Cathy gave me a look, with her fizzy eyes, and I was able to see Trowa's reflection in that blue ocean. Clearing my throat, I tightened my grip around the glass in my hand and raised it up a little toward them.

Trowa was looking at me, raising a eyebrow with curiosity. It wan't his style to look curious. It didn't fit him at all.

She transformed him so much through years.

I never managed to do such a thing.

No matter what.

"Congratulations."

Their smiles should be the most amazing and beautiful thing. I knew that they were sincere. I didn't spare much more time with them, joining Duo who had grown quiet. There was still that lump, deep in my throat, and I tried to swallow it.

"Still drunk?" I smiled at him.

Duo shook his head a little, then opened his eyes wild at the feeling when the whole room turned around him. "Woah- Yeah, still a lot, man." He laughed. Being with Duo was quite great. For some reason, the man was the only one I couldn't read the thoughts. Maybe his experience in life since childhood had built such a protection around him? I leaned against the wall by Duo's side, sighing despite myself. I could feel his eyes on me, the deep amethysts looking like they could scan the world inside me.

"Hey, d'you r'member, Quat'?"

I glanced at him, meeting his gaze. Duo was sometimes intense, serious. His elbow was resting on the narrow arm of the chair, his jaw on his closed fist as he was litterally _scanning_ me.

"Boys don't cry," he murmured, so low that his lips had almost played the sentence without any sound. But I knew this sentence of his by heart now.

"I wonder why you say this all the time," I chuckled.

"Who knows!" And he waved with his hand like some drunk man he was at that moment, a dizzy smile on his lips.

I laughed softly at his strange attitude -or rather I tried.

But I couldn't.

I wanted to cry with my face hidden in a dark pull-over, confined a prison cell that smelt musty.

 _I had always loved Trowa Barton._


	2. Musty prison cell and black pull-over

_Hello there ! A new one shot already wow!_

 _I've actually started a thing, which isn't easy on FFNET. There will be a few works with only one chapter, every of them being part of the same chronology and story base. Here, I'll publish them for the same work, but basically you can read each chapter without having read the others and no matter for the reading order._

 _Leave a review, I'd love to know what you think about all of that ! 3_

 **AC 195**

My name isn't Heero Yuy. I'm able to have feelings toward people, I'm just not able to show it so much. Is it because every time I did, something bad had to happen? In a war time like now, it was always better not to show what you feel. _Don't feel anything_ , don't _think_ about anything, and just focus on your work, whatever it can be, and you will succeed.

Darkness were all around me, altering the color of the thin blanket I had to use to cover myself by night. It wasn't a large cell, OZ prisons had never been the best place to live in after all, but they still managed to put something looking like two...Beds? I assumed. It looked more like cots actually, with that delicate frame that threatened to break at any moment, even when you weren't using it.

I sighed. Being a prisoner wasn't easy, of course. I could imagine if they had caught Duo instead: the guy would have been such a pain in the ass -and I really mean it, that was his style after all. However I never saw the guy complain, no matter the topic -excepted the fact that Heero never talked enough but if I had to follow Duo's train of thoughts, no one talked enough even in a entire life. So well, _shut up, Maxwell_ , as Chang would say.  
It was incredibly cold here, and I pulled a little on my turtleneck to shove my chin under the warm fabric. That pull-over was being a bit old, it was now my size and I knew that I was going to grew even more in a few time. Money was something precious at a time like that, so I always cared about my own belongings. Clothes weren't an exception, and I was used to buy them a few sizes bigger than mine. This one might be my oldest, and it was just perfectly fitting my body. _Shit._

I was alone in that dark clammy room, the silence surrounding me. Sometimes, I was feeling like it was growing more and more oppressive, but in the end I managed to deal with it. Maybe because of the sound of soldiers' boots on the other side of the thick metal door, maybe because of the door itself opened twice a day for a nauseous meal on a dirty trail.

I don't remember how many time I spent here alone. I just knew that I was about to ask for a second blanket -even if I knew that they would never access to my request, of course. The fabric was so threadbare and I used to play with it by passing my fingers through the holes. Many times in one day, the soldiers were coming, taking me to some lieutenant I didn't even remember the name to get interrogated again and again. They needed me, so they couldn't hit me -or not as hard as they wanted. I didn't even know what they were asking me, it wasn't something related to me -and their internal problems were the least of my problems, really.

I couldn't do anything to escape, the analysis of the base didn't give me the best results for such an idea. Numerous soldiers, many of the best mobile suits OZ could possess. I swear I even saw Lady Une in a corridor once, her cold gaze barely giving me some attention when my guards told her who I was. The third Gundam pilot. They hadn't any name to place on my head yet, and I couldn't blame them, poor guys.

I never had a name, and even at sixteen I still wasn't used to call myself with that name I took to someone else a few years ago. So, well, of course I didn't answer to that simple "What's your name?" of them. Of course, they beat me up with pleasure.

I was getting used to all of that, and somehow it was quite scary to think like this. Used to be a prisoner, uh? Or used to be hit? Insulted? Yelled at?

I, myself, was a soldier, I was trained for such a situation, and I could endure it with no problem. I just hated nights and their huge lot of nightmares. I just couldn't do it - sleep I mean - properly, for years and years. So I stopped, taking it for micro resting and its lack of dreams and nightmares. I'm not even sure if I even ever managed to have a whole night of sleep at least once-

I sneered at the thought. Oh, yeah, I did. Once, actually.

The cold of the cell got me by surprise again with a soft air stream coming from the narrow opening under the door.

I, once, slept well. It wasn't in a base full of mobile suits, nor in one of the few places we hid at -and by 'we', I mean some allies, never mind who, what and why. I wasn't one to follow the other Gundam pilots, and preferred working alone. Sometimes, I spent some moments with them, one after one. I didn't know them so much, just enough to feel ok by their sides. Just 'ok' was enough to me, I didn't need to be at ease or something.

But it happened once. Feeling more than just 'ok' with one of them. I mean, that blond guy is pretty nice, sweet and all. Even friendly. Let me tell you that I wasn't really used to that. I don't even understand why the fuck he opened his cockpit the first time we met. Was he a masochist? I could have used that very moment to kill him or something! He had never cared about his own safety, even had invited me to come over. I had wondered for a long time about the reason that had made him ask such a thing, if there was anything -a military secret for example - hidden in that huge and rich house, _anything_?

Nothing. It was the same as being out of the time at that place. The sun. The soft and tepid wind crossing the rooms through opened windows. It all had felt as if I had entered another world and soon, that boy had kept proving that he wasn't _normal_. Who the hell invites a stranger at home during the war, one who was about to kill you before running out of munitions, and then just leaves him free while playing violin? Because yeah, that's basically what he had done.

I hadn't been trained for such things. I couldn't understand what he wanted, as a soldier. So I had let him alone for a while, and had wandered in this unknown house. I had crossed a lot of men, all of them from a country I had hardly heard about but they were from hearth, unlike me. Unlike him? They had talked a little, asking me some things at first, and then telling me their stories, how the Manganacs were fighting by " _Master Quatre_ " 's sides for the Peace. I happened to understand things pretty quickly, making the links. We were in one of the Winner's earthly domains, one of the most powerful families from the Colonies. And that blond guy, living without thinking about anything wrong could possibly happen, was _just_ the youngest son. The only son, even. The heir of the Winners. Oh man, what a story. Why was he even piloting a Gundam, I could have asked, but I didn't dare at that moment. This part might be personal enough for Quatre not to reveal it to other people. I had assumed that, if they weren't already telling me his reasons, they didn't know them, after all -they were way too talkative for skipping such an important part of the story.

After a while, I had lost myself in that house, trying almost every doors I could find, in case I would fall on something, someone I knew -what was quite impossible. It was, at first, getting on my nerves; I was losing a previous time, probably missing a mission, until I remembered that my mobile suit wasn't operational at all and the Manganacs were working on it at that moment. I couldn't do anything at all.

I don't know how, but I managed to hear the music. Surprisingly, the sound of the violin was quite joyful, something that fills your heart and pushes you to listen carefully until you finally wonder why and what you're staring at. That was what had happened to me, and I had had to blink a few times when he had caught me leaning at the door entrance of the room he was in, the bottom of his musical instrument under his chin. He had blinked as well, unsure at first about what to do, but soon a large smile had curved his lips. He could have been shining and I'm pretty sure it would have been the same to me. Wow. The guy was physically the definition itself for innocence. What a shame for him to use a Gundam. He might lose his purity someday, and somehow this idea felt awful to me.

"Hey," he simply greeted me at first. "Sorry, I let you alone for a while." What was funny was the fact that I had been the one to leave and Quatre the one to apologize. Nice boy.

"It's ok, I visited a little. That's a huge place, I almost lost myself."

His chuckle was incredibly genuine, and it was refreshing. I needed that, the soft sound had made me relax a little and I had let myself have a look in the room. It was as big as the other rooms I saw, but this one was certainly dedicated to music. A piano in the middle, violins on the walls, flutes behind window glasses... I couldn't even imagine the cost of all of this but I knew enough to know that even in my whole life, I couldn't buy more than the cheapest flute of this place. Not one of those at less than a meter from me.

"Do you play?" he had suddenly asked. I jumped at his voice, still not used to his tone of voice. Clear. Young. He was probably my age, actually, but his voice hadn't transformed yet.

"I learned," I simply answered, looking away from the amazing instruments protected by the thick glass. Quatre had turned his gaze away at the same time, surely because he was staring at me in some way. But soon, he even turned his face, his head, his _body_ , purely showing his back to me and I didn't know what to think about it. I let it go, taking the piano seat to set myself and listen to the notes coming from his violin. He was a great player, the cords answering nicely to his violin bow and the way he gestured to make both parts interact. His features, too, were interesting to look at. Pleasant, I should say. He had a thin body, hidden in rich yet simple clothes. Not the best to go on a mission, not the worst. Special mention to those awful maroon trousers of his, really.

The music had suddenly stopped, the bow in the air between his thin fingers, and he had barely turned his head to show his profil.

"You're thinking so much," he had let out. "That's disturbing. You can rest; no one's going to attack us here."  
Arms crossed on my chest, I had had to stare at him, unable to speak. Not that I usually had a lot to say, but this time I had been taken by surprise. Something was weird with him. How had he known? My behavior? I'd been calm, quiet, and I knew for sure that I never looked under the cup of stress or anything. There was no way it wasn't as usual.

"Don't worry," he had added, and I could have seen him smile softly. Something weird at that moment had been that even if I couldn't understand what was happening, I trusted that guy. And for a few seconds, I had wished I could relax and play with him. I wasn't as good as him for such things, but if only I had that old flute I used in the base when I was young, I-

"Want to give a try?" He had suddenly offered.

Even if I hadn't shown it, I felt destabilized, and I quite didn't like that feeling. What was he, a magician? A medium? Was he reading my mind or something? As I'd finally been frowning, Quatre had suddenly turned his head back to the window he was facing, hiding himself from me, but I had got enough time to see his face break down at the very moment I had had those thoughts about him, his cheeks slightly red with embarrassment and shame.

"You- You can use whatever you want in this house, if you want to," he had added, with this time no place for any weird meanings, but I still had to place it in our context of 'he's reading my mind or whatever it is'.  
Even now, I don't understand what was that. He never acted like that anymore after that episode, and sometimes I wondered if it had really meant something or if all of this had only been a coincidence.

I hadn't played with him, remaining silent for a while after a quick nod. The sound of his violin in the air was enough to me at that moment. It was all I needed after days in the desert, alone in my cockpit with the stressing beeps of the screens and microphones.

The night had come surprisingly fast, almost all of a sudden, and from the bedroom they had let me use on that night, I had an amazing view on the oasis where everything had been built. I didn't need to know that they were the Winner family to understand how rich they were, really.

I sighed. There was a soft scent in this room, like lavender, and it hadn't taken me long to find out that the bed sheets were the origin of the smell. Not bad, it was better than that old and sometimes putrid kind-of-a-bed in those disgusting secret bases. It had even made me smile.

In the corridor, some noises had made me straighten right away, and I had approached the door to listen through the wood. Quatre's voice was audible, asking for someone to lock the door of his room.

The other man - I recalled the voice of the giant Manganac I talked earlier with, Rachid - agreed. I sighed, comforted as it wasn't a night attack or something this time.

Wait-

No.

I didn't want to know what it meant, they could lock their master in his bedroom all night, that was none of my business. Really. And with that thought, I had let myself fall on the bed, the soft and oh-god-so-comfortable mattress welcoming me with softness. Woah. Just with that, I could feel dizzy. My own breath had been resonating in my ears, my heartbeat getting slower and slower as I was trying to get off the recent events. The silence was overwhelming me, like now in this prison cell, but the feeling was by far so different. In that bedroom, I had felt in security. At first, I hadn't really been able to point what was that feeling. I lay there, rolling on the bed until the moment I decided to take my clothes off, just keeping my underwear. It was a hot place, and I still wonder how I managed to keep my pull-over without fainting due to the heat. The smell of the fabric was terrible and I had winced noticing this, and finally decided to let it for the day after as the thick sheets were grabbing me.  
I don't know how many times I slept. I mean, I purely slept, without even thinking about anything, with no dreams or nightmares. I was feeling so dazed, unable to clear my mind right away. Something had awoken me, but I couldn't find what. A sound, something like that.

A scream. A short and horrified scream has just resonated from one of the rooms near mine. The next thing I had heard was a loud noise, like something hurting the floor, a rather loose sound that appeared to be like a body falling. I had immediately jumped off the bed, my thoughts upside down from my unusual sleep, my brain barely working properly but no matter what, I was already in the corridor. Two Manganac were in front of a door, with a dark face, and the scream came again.

I had blinked twice, my ears not really used to that voice, but just enough to _know_.

"What's happening?" I had asked.

They had only shook their head weirdly, frowning while I was approaching. "Master Quatre ordered us not to let anyone come in," one had tried to say.

"He told you to lock him in, that's quite different," I had replied.

They had made quite a funny face at that, but hadn't moved on. His words were strong on them, and as a soldier I could understand.

"What's happening?" I had asked again.

"Master Quatre can't deal with someone else's presence," a voice had suddenly thundered from behind me, and I had jumped on my feet, the carpet covering the floor welcoming my naked toes. The giant Manganac, Rachid, was there, his face featuring a worrying looks while he was staring at the door.

"If that's it, why did he—"

I got cut out by his hard gaze. They wouldn't be answering me in any way. No matter how awful were the screams resonating from the other side of that door, no matter how Quatre was panting. Was he in his bed? On the floor? How comes he was sounding so miserable and in pain? What was it, that they couldn't tell me? It all sounded like a nightmare. Maybe I was just sleeping at that moment, after all it wasn't my thing, going in boxers in a corridor and chat with others in the middle of the night.

But I could feel that it was real. The pain I could hear from the screams was real, and let me tell you that I knew quite a lot about that type of things.

I had gritted my teeth, my hands curling into fists. "We're both pilots and here for the same mission," I had started with. "If there's anything he's hiding, then I won't work with that guy."

There had been a cough from the other side of the door an it had caught my attention -and Rachid's, as I saw his gaze turn to the door. Coming closer, he had knocked softly against the smooth surface of the door, talking in a language I couldn't get any word from. The silence first had answered, but soon, the hesitating voice of the short blond reaching us. His voice sounded broken, breathless, even though I did't know what he was saying. It was some arabic or something, I hadn't learned that language at all, plus it might have been some patois. Rachid had nodded a few times to the few short sentences we had heard. But he hadn't stopped frowning, with that serious looks of his. He had tried a few more words, and we'd heard Quatre's body fumbling in the room, probably getting on his feet. The sound of metalic springs came to us. Had he sat on the bed? Was he going to sleep, just like that?

"Open the door," I had said. This time, I'd seen an hesitation in his gaze, his huge hand tensing and about to reach for the key in the lock.

But Quatre's voice had reached us again, stopping him immediatly and I had a similar feeling than earlier when I was with the other pilot. Jaw slightly tensing, Rachid had abandonned the door midway without a word, gesturing to the two other men for them to stay in place nonetheless.

I had no idea what to do at that very moment. There was nothing to do, all I could understand was that Quatre had ordered to all of us to let him in his position. I still was able to hear his heavy, difficult breathing through the door, and it felt like nothing I had heard before. It wasn't the pain from war, it wasn't the tireness from fight, it wasn't any of what I knew myself.

I didn't understand at that moment, and even now, months after that day, I didn't know what to think. On that night, I had to go back to that room, my head and ears full of his screams, pantings and breathings.

It had taken me a while before I got to sleep again, even though I hadn't planned on really falling asleep again - it had taken me by surprise the first time, the second had been even more of a surprise - but after another couple of hours later, I had heard the screams awaking me for the second time. I hadn't moved this time, my mind racing to get the situation at its best. In the corridor, I could heard those men talking between them, half english and half arabic. I thought that nightmares could be his problem, but I never got any term related to this in their discuss. It had to be something else, and somehow they knew what was happening - or at least that man, Rachid, knew pretty well about the problem.

I had spent the rest of the night like this, listening to the voices trying to cover Quatre's madness, and feeling strangely useless in this situation. There was nothing to do. But after the second episode, he finally had seemed to calm down, and only his heavy breathing was still barely audible from his room.

On the morning, I had decided to leave the room early after dressing on my clothes -they were stinking as hell after the last battles, the sweat, the heat - and I immediatly bumped into the giant Manganac, almost crushing my nose against his large chest. Couldn't he prevent before popping in front of my door? But at least, I had slept a few hours during that night, and it even had been so restful that I was quite surprised myself by my own energy. Not that I hadn't had energy in the first place I mea, but I didn't have to _force myself_.

"Follow me to the kitchen," he had ordered. I hadn't protested, my stomach agreeing with his request. The kitchen wasn't one of those huge rooms I had been walking through the day before when I was looking for my way in the house. It was a rather comfortable and normal kitchen, with classic wooden fournitures and a medium round table in the center. A newly flower bouquet was resting in a colored glass vase in the middle of the table. The smell of hot coffee was unbearable for someone who was so hungry as I was, and I hadn't any idea of why I was like that. Maybe sleeping too much -actually _sleeping_ itself- had that effect on me?

A young woman, probably the cooker, had looked at me with a smile and seemed to understand my needs, quickly shoving a cup of black coffee in my hands. "There are croissants in the oven, just wait a few minutes, my boy," she had said.

No need to say that I had just nodded. Oh dear. I had felt like some prince during this breakfast. Not like a Winner, just a prince was enough. Actually, just having a normal breakfast wasn't in my daily habits. We couldn't have the food we needed everyday, and while we were in a mission, it was even worse. OZ ad the Earth Alliance were looking for us, we couldn't show so much.

I had been eating my second croissand and coffee when Quatre had arrived in the kitchen -and I hadn't been able to hide my surprise to see him in this room instead of the _grand salon_. But the cooker had smiled anyway, bringing him what she knew he would need.

"Master, it's been a while," she had said. "You have grown up so much since the last time!"

He'd jut nodded with a smile as he seemed to do all the time, and at that moment, from my piece of wall I had been leaning against, I had seen those imperceptible bags under his eyes, and the hint of red around the bright blue apple of his eyes. The night had been difficult for him, for sure.

" 'Morning," I had heard myself say. He hadn't turn his gaze to me, but I knew there was still that soft smile on his face at my uncertain try to be sociable.

"Good morning. Had a good night?"

He wasn't drinking coffe like me, a mug of hot and sweet chocolat between his hands, and somehow I smiled at the memories. I had shrugged, unable at that moment to say anything about the weird night I had had.  
The morning had passed by quite quickly, Quatre spending his time helping people all around the residence. I didn't know that being so rich led people to such an altruism but it seemed that he was the only one like that. Sometimes I had seen his eyes flicked to me, when I was wondering too much and he quickly changed the object of his attention. This all, from the day before, was leaving a weird taste at the back of my tongue, and I couldn't point precisely what it was.

Quatre was just something I couldn't follow.

Every time our eyes had me, Quatre had imediatly turned away. He was nothing I had known before, and I had been going through the whole morning beteen astonishment and frustration for being treated like that. In the end, I was deeply annoyed.

"How many time do they need?" I had asked when we finally were only the two of us in the kitchen for some cold soup at lunch.

Outside, it had become quite hot so the Manganac had told us not to go out anymore. We were way too pale according to them and not used to such a weather and climat.

"For the reparations you mean?" Qutre had assumed. "They'll be ok soon I guess, they worked on our Gundam all night long."

I nodded. That was perfect. I didn't want to spend much time here. Something was disturbing me and I couldn't take it right. I didn't need things to last for too long like this. There had been a weird silence in which Quatre had remained quite, drinking his soup slowly. I had finished ine for a moment already - I wasn't used to take my time to eat, considering how important the lack of time was during a battle.

I had finally cought a little, unsure about the situation at that moment, and he's eventually let his gaze slip up to my face with that curiosity of his devoring me as much as possible. Or rather that was how it had felt to me. It had been, since the day before, as if I'd been the first one he was interacting with, the first one he was watching at, the first one he was talking to.

I couldn't understand any of this.

He had that soft smile. He had put that sweet looks on his features, his bright blue eyes almost shining in the daylight coming through the shutters closed at every window now. And in the lack of light, I stared at him, my mind racing again and again while e was tilting his head on the side, curious, his eyes blinking at me.

"Something's wrong?"

"I-"

I had shaken my head. Be neutral, Trowa. "It's ok. I'm off for a walk. I'll see you later."

An idea had suddenly hit me, a memory about some people I had known before, long time ago when I was a mercenary under the Barton command. From when I was No Name, and I felt like wincing at it. I needed to make things clear, but not with him, not now.

I had left the kitchen already, leaving him alone.

There was that idea that had suddenly popped in my mind and somehow, it would have explained a lot of things if only it was real. But at the same time, I hated the possibility of this to be true. I couldn't work with this guy if there was any possibility for him to be _like this_. I had walked a moment, trying every corridors I could find, until I managed to find the huge garage where our Gundam had been stored for the reparations. I was out of breath, running in the end without noticing it myself and Rachid, who was present, was already staring at me from his place a few meters away from me. His dark features and giant stature were all but friendly to me. I walked to him nonetheless, my hand curling into fists despite myself.

"Your mobile suit will be ready in two hours," Rachid had said with his gluttural voice.

"Is he a Newtype?"

Rachid gawked at me for a moment, his eyes folded, lips tightened with an upset looks.

"Us, Manganac, are dedicated to Master Quatre's security and wellness," he had started, but I didn't intend to let him get me as easily as this.

"That's not the point," I had growled. "Answer me."

"We can't entrust a stranger, I'm sorry. These are orders."

"Can he read people thoughts?" I had kept asking. "Can he read them? Can he know what they think?"

"I told you, I won't be answering this."

Rachid knew that I wasn't stupid. Of course, I was right, his absence of negative answer being enough of a proof to me.

Really. They had choosen a fucking Newtype to pilot the fourth Gundam and fight for their Peace. What a joke.

I had swallowed thickly, feeling a lump deep in my throat. Not that I was betrayed of anything. I didn't know them, they hadn't done anything, it was even the contrary. They had welcomed me, treated me like one of theirs, offered me food and sleep.

But knowing that...

 _I couldn't take it._

"I'll be leaving in two hours," I had spat to the man before turning heels to the stairs going back to the long corridors.

He hadn't answer - I hadn't given hime the possibility to, actually.

A newtype. Actually, I didn't know anything about Quatre, I didn't even know what he was, I just had _felt_ something weird, unusual about him. The way he seemed to understand everything, the way he seemed to know everything, all of that reminded me of those Newtypes I'd known while I was living with the mercenaries. They were pieces of crap living only for their honnor, able to kill you for being better than them even if you had no abilities like them. They were self-called "Princes of the space", and had tried many times to take the controle of the Barton foundation. They killed, so many times for fun or for that disgusting honnor of theirs, or even for fake reasons they had just found to have an excuse. They were powerful, they were stronger than normal human beings, and they knew it. They were beyong us.

So, what if Quatre was one of them? I still didn't know the truth. Maybe he was just a little too friendly, maybe he was just able to read people through their features and had an ease to guess theirs thoughts at a very moment?  
No. It was something else, and I had that firm conviction. Even now, I still had.

When I'd been back to the kitchen, Quatre wasn't eating his soup anymore. Of course he was done and I had been somehow thankful for the time it had given me to make my thoughts in order before seeing him back. I had been pretty sure that he would know something had happened just my looking at my face right now, and I hadn't want to be that weak.

I hadn't spoiled my time after that, packaged the few things I had with me in my backpack. An hour left, I had sighed watching the huge clock on the wall of the bedroom I had been using untill now.

The soft sound that was coming from the corridor hit my ears. The violin cords' music were resonating, calling for the last time. Because it would be the last, for sure. I didn't intend to work with a Newtype. I was alone by myself, I had a mission to accomplish and I didn't need him.

I let my bag on the bed.

In the music room, Quatre was there again, standing, the neck of the violin between his thin fingers, the body of the instrument stuck between his chin and collarbones. The bow in the other hand was making soft goings and comings. His lips were tightened closely, a frown between his eyebrows. His music sounded happy. He wasn't.  
You can use whatever you want, he had said the day before.

I didn't intend to see him again after that. I could at least do something I had wanted for long. This was what I thought when I saw the simple flute put on the piano behind him.

He knew already. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

I'd spent the last hour joining him and playing. I didn't look at him all this time. I didn't need it. I could picture his gaze on me, I could feel it, so strong, so intense, and at the same time so insecure. I could imagine his huge blue shining eyes, that particularity some Newtypes had while using their abilities. Even not using it, some of them were jut so powerful that their entire body was amazing in that way, something beautiful an scary at the same time.

Quatre was amazingly handsome, even for a boy.

I had left the flute after that without a word. He hadn't talked either, his attention turned to the window, shutters half-closed to let some light enter the room.

I had left the house without a word after Rachid had come to tell me that everything was ready. Quatre was silent, nodding sometimes to the giant Manganac when he was talking.

Outside, it was so hot that I first thought that I wouldn't be able to breath until I get into my cockpit - and it probably was right.

"Wait!"

His voice had stopped me instantly, making me turn. Quatre was at the music room window, shutters fully opened and not caring at all for the un on his white skin.

"You- I didn't told you my name!"

You din't need.

"I'm Quatre! Quatre Raberba Winner!"

He was smiling.

I wanted to sigh. I knew what he wanted.

"I don't have a name," I started with, but something in his ace made me regret immediatly my words. "But you can call me Trowa. Trowa Barton."

His smile had grown even bigger and I had turned my eyes away. I wouldn't see him again, so what?

"See you, Trowa!"

 _Stupid Newtype_.

The cell smelt musty, makin me wincing when a wave of awful smell reached my nostrils. Sometimes, I wanted to puke but my empty stomach didn't agree so much with that idea.

My pull-over was stinky, again, like that day.

Since I left Quatre, I hadn't seen him again. Only through the news on TV, and it was only his Gundam's exploit. He was still fighting.

But to me, Quatre wasn't one of us. He would never be.

I just missed the sound of his violin, the smoothness of his hand on the instrument and the warmth of his gaze while he was playing by my side.

I missed the human in him, for the only day I'd spent with Quatre Raberba Winner.


	3. The Liar

_Third chapter ! I'm pretty fast these days, I know, but this work has been something I've been wanting to write for so long !_

 _Something important by the way, as I cut it in a pretty special way : please don't forge to look at the timeline at the beginning of every chapter!_

 _As usual, tell me what you thought in a review 3 Luv ya all !_

 ** _The liar_**

 **AC217**

I'm a liar. Actually, I'm even an awful liar, one of those people able to show you a wild smile, full of white teeth, when they can't even stand your last words. I'm able to laugh when the only thing I have in mind is to rip your face off your head with my own hands. I can tell you the sweetest words when I just want to spill my most awful thoughts at you.

I'm able to smile at you in the softest way, to say "Congratulation" with the nicest tone to someone about to get married. To someone I love. To the one I've always wanted from the beginning, through the war, through the years, through our common despair.

On the day Trowa Barton had decided to marry Catherine Bloom, I had felt like I was losing something I couldn't even explain. The power I'd always tried not to use was just too much to restrain on such a day. I couldn't talk, letting Duo worry about my behavior.

I couldn't take it. Did you know, Trowa, that I never liked that woman? Did you know that I'd just always been jealous of her and her ability to get closer and closer to you?

Did you know how bad I needed you?

Did you know how the only sound of your voice was enough to make me feel appeased when the Heart of outer space was taking me deeper and deeper in people darkness? Did you know how hard I was trying to focus on your voice when theirs was yelling in my mind as if in my ears? Did you know how important every of your words were in those moments?

Maybe you never cared, maybe you never noticed. In those moments, I just kept silent, pretending being busy reading when you were reading the next mission file with that slow, peaceful voice of yours. I loved that, no matter how awful the pain in my mind and heart was.

I never felt good. I never told you. After all, I'm Quatre Raberba Winner. After all, I'm the Prince of desert. Did you know that I could hear the four of you when you were talking, thinking that I was already sleeping next to you?

And when sadness was overwhelming me, I had just told myself 'This is Heart of Outer Space's fault'. I knew how wrong I was. I knew all of it.

I was just a human being, full of desire, full of hatred, full of unfilled love.

I wanted to vomit. Because of her, because of you, because of them, because of their voices, because of your gaze on me, because of your attention on her, because of my loneliness, because of my fears, because of that unbearable affection I'd put on you.

Because of me. Because of the trash I'd become by following my feelings, because of the awful liar I'd been showing to you all those years long.

I never told you about my abilities, hiding my true nature every day.

I never told you why I couldn't sleep by night when you were around me. You or another. Would you have understood how people's nightmares enter my mind and take possession of my thoughts, the fear crawling in my veins, the pain climbing under my skin, making me shiver and tremble, making me whining pitifully, making me scream like a damned, like I was going to die, because I was feeling that way in those moments.

By night, I was dying, unable to say a word, my fingers and nails trying uselessly to scratch my skin in order to reach my painful heart. Every night, I thought it was the last. I learned how to stay silent when I started living with the four of you.

And so, I thought I would die alone, in silence.

In the end, I _wanted_ to die in silence. I _wanted_ you to remember me like the friend you couldn't save. Like the friend you finally didn't know anything about. Like the friend you finally didn't care so much.

Did I succeed? Are you _alone_ , alone in your own thoughts, alone _with yourself_ like I've _always_ been?

Drowning myself every night in everyone's thoughts, in everyone's pain, in everyone's fears wasn't something I could endure for my whole life. I knew that trying to take it all by myself would only lead me to some insane way of being.

I wanted to cry. I needed to cry over my weakness, for not telling you anything. I needed you. I wanted you, just so bad, and still I couldn't show any of this, choosing to close the door of both our hearts.

" _Don't reject me_." I heard myself murmur. I heard, only. Did I speak? Did I move? Did you look at me? _Did you only hear my heart_?

And now?

Now, I was just good enough to earn that despicable gaze of yours, with those two green and sharp apples I knew by heart.

Did you know?

Your gaze always made me _shiver_ and _tremble_.

Your gaze always made me _whine pitifully_.

Your gaze always made me _scream like a damned_ , like I was going to die, because I was feeling that way in those moments.

You always made me feel like my awful heart always did.

"Trowa, don't be too hard with hi—"

But the pain came, no matter how Duo praised him –maybe trying to stop him. I felt my head turn violently on my neck under the shock, the sore feeling of Trowa's fist still burning my jaw. I hoped he broke something in my face, the huge pain eradiating my mouth.

I didn't need to look at them, eyes closed, chin down. I could _feel_ them. Even Duo. That soft feeling, that soft pain emanating from his body was an aura I hadn't got to know until now. For the first time, Duo let me enter his heart and feelings. Or rather, he let me see. He let me hear.

 _I want to pray for you, my friend. I want you to know you're not alone._ He could have said such a thing. That's what his heart was yelling at me. _  
_

Duo had been the only one to know everything. I never needed to tell him, he always managed to guess things pretty easily. I didn't need to look at him, my eyes locked on the shining slipping floor of the court. I could hear Relena's sobs, in the first line of the people who'd come to the trial.

I could feel Heero's incomprehension; I could feel his hand on Relena's shoulder, the tedious heat linking them skin against skin. I swallowed at the thought while Trowa's anger was running under my skin, making my heart race like hell.

Trowa's hatred. Trowa's anger. Trowa's pain. Trowa's broken heart.

The dull pain was violently muscled in my veins, pulsing to my heart. Have you ever wonder how it was like, feeling others? His hatred was thickly crawling under my epidermis, like a bunch of maggots swarming along my body. His anger was like a bouquet of points heading to drill my nerves. His pain was like a flow of acid running down my throat.

His heart—

His heart made me cry. It made me cry for my faults, it made me cry for the pain I imposed to myself for years, for my life.

"QUATRE—!"

I hoped I would die from his broken heart.

At night, I always thought I would die under someone's despair.

I, somehow, wanted you to kill me, Trowa.


	4. Phone Call

_Another part of their life again! Even if it's not perfect, I'm so happy that I can finaly work on all this ! Plus...Dears, I didn't expect people to actually read it, and you even gave me nice reviews. Thank you so much, this means a lot to me._

 _[POV Quatre]_

 **AC198**

The silence.

I had always been someone to show a full self-confidence. Actually, being social had never been a problem to me. Vanishing in the air, as if I had never been here at all, too. All around me, the soft darkness of the end of the day was starting to be more and more pronounced with the fading light of the sun. I could admire a ray of light coming through the half close shutters, full of grains of dust from its birth to the greyish old wooden floor.

"Hey, Quat', are you ok? "

"Mh, yeah."

The tip of my finger was stuck to my ear to make the small earpiece stay in place in a better way. My ear had always been to small for that type of equipment. Duo's voice sometimes resonnated, keeping me from thinking too much or, even, from sleeping, and that wasn't a bad thing. I'd left the Preventer base a few days ago for that spying mission and it was already the fourth time he was giving a call, checking for me and some news.

"How's it going then? "

"That's quite a quiet place," I sighed.

With my bottom set on the floor in a thick lay of dust, it had to be at least quiet during the day.

I heard Duo exhale deeply in my ear. "That's not what I mean, Quat." It made me smile, I could picture his face, jaded at my answer.

I laughed a little. "I know, sorry."

"Did something happen? Where's Une? "

"Still in her hotel. Doesn't seem she's heading anywhere tonight."

" Don't let you gard down, Quatre, " said another voice, and I assumed that Duo had put on the loud speaker. He wasn't alone, so the four of them -Duo, Heero, Wufei and Trowa- could hear and talk to me. At the idea, I swallowed thickly, making the sudden lump bubble in the depth of my throat.

"Thanks, Heero, that's sweet of you," I only said to the man. With the time passing by, the Japanese had learnt some tips not to always be in marge, and sometimes he was able to say something, well...Not that he was really nice or even trying to be, but he had softened since that time when we were fighting against the Alliance and OZ

"You're welcome," Heero growled, more because he was being shy under my words than because he was polite -he never was, too used to go around with Duo to actually even know what polite could possibly mean.

I stretched a leg, not going too far as I was soon stopped by the old table in the middle of the small room. The floor was so dusty that my feet let tracks through the dirt. The place smelt as if something decayed was hidden behind a furniture for months and I couldn't open the windows to refresh the vitiated air; I was in a mission, I couldn't be seen, found or the worst that could happen : caught. I was here to spy, something I had always been quite good at, surprisingly. Or rather, everyone was shocked when the Preventers gave the results from all our missions until now, even when we weren't part of the organisation. I mean, when we were the Gundam pilots, when we were teenagers. Not so long ago.

I was the second after Duo. It wasn't a surprise about him, didn't he even steal his Gundam before using it? On purpose, of course. But he did nonetheless and I was kind of admirative about his exploits.

I cought a little because of the amount of dust flying in the air, finding my breath back quickly.

"What is it?" I heard another voice in my ear and Duo sneered at the question.

"Dust allergy," I mumbled for a quick explanation. It wasn't Heero's voice, I knew it, and I first felt a little panicked. I shouldn't.

"Do you have something for this? Your inhaler?" Duo gave a try, and I knew that it wasn't really for the sake of the fucking inhaler -it wouldn't make any difference in the case of an allergy and we both were aware that he didn't know a thing about that type of things.

"Forgot it," I sighed. "It's ok, I can deal with it."

It was difficult to be relying on their voices only. Alone in this dark room, sitting back against the wall and the window by my side so nobody could see my figure, I could only hear my own breath and the sound of my sniffings due to the dust.

"Ah, shit," I mumbled again when my nose tickled again, threatening to make me sneeze.

"Eh?"

"That place was the worst idea you had, Duo. Or the best, if you were you planing to kill me here and now, actually."

I could here Duo's crystalline laughter in my ear, and it made me smile softly. Duo's exhilaration was something exceptional and his joy had always made me able to do things I thought I could never. Duo himself was something exceptional. To me, he was exceptional. I never had to force myself not to hear Duo's feelings; I never heard them, no matter what. With Duo, I never spent nights waiting for the sun to raise with anxiety, I never had to feel my heart filled with feelings I couldn't understand myself, I never had to take his pain deep in my chest against my own will.

Being a Newtype had alwayd been the worst part of my life, and I was just starting to understand how to use my abilities. Until now, I only could take things like they were coming to me, without thinking about it, without even realizing I was doing this or that. Scanning people feelings wasn't something I did on purpose. It was my way to go through everything and thanks to it, I was able to act according everyone's will. It was my only way to do as my father wanted me to, until the day I left, lost in my rebellion.  
The day come that my behaviour wasn't welcome. The feeling I had got had been weird, and for a moment I had felt lost.

I was scared, feeling my cocoon breaking under those harsh green eyes every time he was looking at me through my power. So I fought myself. That guy didn't want me to enter his mind, and I hadn't need to feel it. He had rejected me with all his strength, maybe without knowing it himself.

Trowa Barton had rejected what I had built since the first day we met.

I sighed, barely listening to what the other pilots were saying in their microphone. I sighed, maybe too deeply because I heard Duo press on a button, the soft 'click' making me wince for a second. The buzz surrounding him had suddenly disapeared, and only his voice came in the microphone after I heard him fumble for a moment.

"What's going on?" He was talking with a low voice, and I had to bit a little at my low lips at the idea that Duo had left the others just to talk to me in a more intimate way.

"Where are you now?"

"Toilets," he sneered, and his voice resonnated a little in the earpiece. He wasn't lying at all and it was making the situation quite funny.

"The best place to hide," I nodded. With my other hand, my forefinger started fidgetting on the surface of the floor, drawing circles in ths dust.

"I've shut the speakers down for a few minutes, but they're not stupid, you know they'll find out pretty soon," Duo was mumbling a little, tipping with his fingers on a smooth surface that sounded like made out of porcelain. The toilets basin, probably. "Sooo, tell me, Quat, is everything really ok?" His voice was still teasing me a little and hearing it ade me feel a little more at ease.

I huffed softly. "Yeah, I told you, everything is fine here."

"You know that I don't really care about 'everything' but about 'you', Quat."

I could feel his small scolding, like he was talking to a child and it made me smile despite myself. "Y-yeah, I know." There was too many circles on the floor at the moment, and I lifted my finger up to swip it on my trousers.

"So? You know how persistent I can be!"

"I know that too for sure!" I laughed.

The second after, I was sighing again. "I'm ok, but..."

"You can't feel us?"

I gulped at his words. Duo knew a little about my abilities, found it out by himself one day. I couldn't hide it to him that time. We were alone in a mission, waiting patiently until I got suddely attacked by a regiment of violent feelings I couldn't take. The result had been quite awful, and even today I wasn't sure if I would have succeed against it if I'd been alone at that moment.

I nodded, even if Duo couldn't see me, then added after a silence. "Yes. I'm a little lost, I have to admit."

"Don't worry, they don't notice anything. You know how insensible they are to people's feelings and stuff..."

"You're right," I chuckled. The fact that Trowa didn't react to my way of being at the momen was still quite painful, but it was him. It was normal. He wouldn't show any of his own feelings, any of his thougts, and I had persuade myself not to enter his mind since the first day we met. I didn't want him to hate me for being different, for being unable to fight my power, for being able to enter his head and heart.

"What are you thinking about?" Duo's voice apeased me somehow, and I pressed the back of my hand to rub my eyes a little.

"You know, this and that..."

"This Trowa and that Trowa?" He asked playful.

"You know me too well," I laughed.

"We're sharing the same place for years, of course I know you too well!"

Roommating at the Preventers base most of the time had led us to be closer and closer. Duo had accepted those nights when I was fumbling around, waiting for the day to come, my body aching due to my racing abilities. He'd accepted the fact that I wasn't at ease when not naturally using my power to integrate myself in a group of people. I didn't need to scan their hearts, of course, just feeling the way they were reacting to things was enough for me to answer. To answer how they wanted me to. And here was the problem at the moment; Duo and the others were far from me, and through the microphone and earpiece I couldn't feel them and what they were basically thinking. I had to count on the tone of their voices, the noise surrounding them, and it was quite stressful. Even after years dealing with that type of situations, I couldn't take it at its best. I, most of the time, managed to stay in the base, at the control panel, right where they were right now.

"Sorry man, I should have been there."

I mirked at Duo's apologies - I knew that he realy meant it - and shook my head uselessly. "Donc be, that not your fault."

" I should have been more careful last time, so you wouldn't-"

"Hey hey, stop with that!" I giggled. "You broke your leg, Duo, that's not something piddling!"

"Heero took care of his broken leg by himsel when he wasn't even fifteen, remember?"

"You're not Heero, remember?" I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Yeaaahhh, but-ah shit, they're calling already, I've taken too much time-"

I could hear muffled noises, probably the others' voices and something like they were knocking on the toilets door.

"Quat, sorry, I- "

"Go back with them, they won't get it if we're communicating in the toilets, you know?"

"Mh, right right, I got it!"

I heard the weird sounds of the flush in the microphone, the sound of the lock from the toilets, and then the voices of Heero and Wufei, surely not agreeing with Duo going to the toilets with the microphone.

The light coming through the shutters had slightly changed during our conversation, turning from a light shade of yellow to a soft pink in the room.

"But you know, Quat, life goes on, okay? So, uh, don't overthink-Well, I mean, you know what I mean-Right?"

His attempt to comfort me was the best in the end; I laughed a little more than before, relaxing against my piece of wall. I was getting used to the smell of the place, my head a little dizzy due to my non-habit.

My eye were burning a little already - rubbing them with the dust all around me had been the worst idea - and I blinked a little at the street and hotel I was spying on. If something had to happen, it would be in no time, si I caught the backpack next to me to bring it closer. My gun wasn't far, actually the first thing coming in my hand with a refill. The second was that dark pull-over, the fabric so thin that it was being almost frowsy and anybody could asked why I still owned such an od cloth. I would have ever answer this question by something else than "I need dishcloth to work".

It was the only reason I had found to take it from Trowa on the day he anted to throw his oldest and tiniest pull-over in the trashbin, three years ago. I was a bit ashamed whenever I looked at the cloth, but the warm feeling that also filled me was nothing to compare with, and the fabric, soft and rough at the same time under the tip of my fingers, made me smile a little.

"That's getting a little worrying," I heard Heero in the microphone, and his sudden voice made me jump and leave the pull-over. The gun still in my hands, I started moving the mechanic, making sure that everything would work properly. Just in case. I hated guns.

"Yeah. The informations we got weren't checked properly this time," I added.

"No way, Zechs did it hims- "

But I cut him abruptly. "Wait..."

"Quatre?" Trowa's voice resonnated in my ear, making me frown a little for a second, but the moment right after, I was overrun by many feelings I wasn't having myself at that very moment.

"Someone's coming," I murmured. A buzz answered at first, and some micro setting noises, then I understood that they had taken Duo's microphone to put my connexion with them on loud speakers and be able to talk freely with me.

"What? There's nothing on the radar...Do you hear something?" I ould picture Wufei and his scowl, probably crossing his arms on his chest, his white traditional chinese shirt buttoned up his neck as usual.

My fingers started running nervously on the crosier. I could feel them, even if I was unable to say where they were precisely at the moment. But closed enough for me to be able to feel them.

"Yeah yeah, let's say that...," I sighed. My hands were already trembing. I was good at spying, I was good at fighting in my Gundam. But I wasn't one to often fight by hand, it was rather Heero or Wufei or even Trowa's thing.

"Quatre? Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, for n-AW!"

The loud sound of a detonation had amost killed my ears, but what had me yelling from far was more the violent and sudden pain eradiating my shoulder without a warn. Awww shit-shit-shit, as Duo would say. I didn't even take the time to think twice and rolled on my side, trying to see what was coming. I could hear their footstep. Oh man, what a fool. I knew they were close, why didn't I feel them even better, earlier even!?

"SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT QUATRE! ANSWER!" Duo was almost screaming in the microphone, making the earpiece buzz like hell. "What happened? You're ok? Hey! QUATRE !"

Hidden behind the old table, I was gritting my teeth due to the pain in my shoulder, pressing my hand still holding the gun on the bleeding wound. I could feel the tacky seep on my fingers, but at that moment my breath, lost and irregular and oh so noisy to my ears, was my main problem.

Focus, Quatre.

"Where is he!?"

They were here, I could see their dark boots almost shining in the dust.

"Look at there, must be his blood eh!"

I hold my breath, in my ear I still could hear Duo calling for me. Sorry man, can't answer now, ok?

"Find him!"

"Yes sire!"

They moved quickly, almost running in the same motion. The pain was unbearable, and as the silence was back, I let go of my shoulder, with the hope that the blood wouldn't run any more. The sticky liquid was sticking to my skin all along my arm and I couldn't move it so much without the risk to whine like a baby. Sometimes, I whished I was Heero or some insensible guy like him.

"Quat? Awwww shit, guys, d'you think he lost the earphone? What was that fucking noise? A shot? Fuck it, d'you think he-Tro, don't look at me like that, man, that's not my fault! Quat-Quat-Quat! ANSWER YOU FUCKER! AW Fei, don't hit me!"

"I'm here," I breathed, keeping my voice low. The microphone was still hanging onto my collar and hadn't fall on the floor -quit a good news or the soldiers might have found it right away the minute before.

" FOR GOD'S SAKE QUAT!" And then I heard Duo growled after something hit him. Probably Heero's fist. Or Wufei's. Weirdest choice in a life.

I turned around the table, trying to widen my ability's area as much as possible with the hope that I could locate the soldiers. I could feel them. They-

"Hey, you!"

I jumped, brandishing my gun in the direction of the voice to fall nose to nose with another gun pointed on me. Shitty day.

"I knew you were here!" He was grossly smiling, taking a step while I was trying to step back. "DON'T MOVE!"

"Quat, what's going on again?!"

"That's not my day, Duo..." I swallowed heavily, squinting at the tip of his gun, mine facing but trembling so much that I wasn't sure if it would be of any help.

"Wha-"

Focus, Quatre, FOCUS!

His feels. Right. I got it. He was confident, feeling incredibly high, full of happiness -of course-, and I knew for sure that he wouldn't hesitate and pull the trigger. His thoughts. Focus, Quatre. Let it come to you, right? Don't obstruct your mind. Let it crawl under your skin, let it make you shiver again and again, let it make you feel nauseus as much as possible if you need it.

The thrill suddenly hit me.

He was about to-

"QUATRE!"

The nasty sound of both our bodies falling on the floor made me wince, my hand still cramped on the crosier of the gun. The sound of the detonation had made my ears buzz again. I had been faster to shoot him, using his own thoughts to be able to do such a thing.

I just hadn't thought about the risks.

We were still connected by the Heart of outer space, and a hint of regret caught me when I felt his death filling me, my heart aching violently as if it was going to explode, beating incredibly fast and low at the same time.

I wailed at first, the nose in the dust of the floor, but soon the pain was nothing to compare with, and even my shoulder felt like a simple scratch. But my heart was like dying, and soon I couldn't breath under the huge pain I was trying to assimilate despite myself.

I'd already killed people on a mission, and the feeling and effect it had on me, due to my Newtype abilities, were devastating. This time, I'd been connected to the guy. It wa even worse than what I'd ever thought. Feeling someone's death was something. Living it, with all your nerves, with all your heart, was something else, and I was there, lying on the floor and almost screaming my pain, my hands trying to reach for my aching chest and do something. In vain.

"Quat! Quat, calm down man! What's going on?! "

"He-He's dead, he's de-im-ok-he-s-dead" I barely managed to answer something like that between two breathy tries, and ended whining pitifully.

"Thanks god, but oh dears what's going on!? Quat, pleas tell m-"

That sound, again. Someone had touched Duo who probably had the best place, the closest to the microphone. I cought, dust entering my mouth and nose and I tried spitting it out.

"Quatre?"

I couldn't refrain a scream at that moment under a wave of pain and disgust reaching me again, the calm tone of this voice printed in my ears.

"Focus on my voice, Quatre."

Trowa.

I tried to swallow but the horrible taste of dust at the back of my tongue almost made me puke right away and I cought again, threatening to vomit soon as I was amost rolling on my side.

"Listen to me," he kept saying. His voice was low, calm, and I loved it. "I've just got a message from Sally and Une."

"Amazing, uh..." I managed to say, out of breath.

"They caught these partisans of the Zodiac. You're safe, ok?"

I didn't answer, breathing furiously to fight the pain that made me curl on the floor at the moment.

"You're safe," he repeated again, and this time, there was something I couldn't quite point out from his voice, something soft I wasn't used to hear fom him -something I had already heard, but so few- and it suddenly made me listen carefully.

"I-I-"

"I've told told them your location, Quatre, Sally's coming pretty soon," he continued. "Talk to me," he suddenly added.

I cought.

"It...hurts..." I sputtered.

"What hurts?"

"Killi-Killing hurts-"

"I know," he softly answered. No one was talking around him, nd for a moment I wondered if he was alone. But I hadn't heard any sound proving that they'd left, at any moment. They were here, silent as Trowa was talking. As he was taking care of me. "But you're alive, Quatre, thanks god you're alive."

I didn't need my power to know how much he meant with these words. Trowa Barton wasn't one to show his feelings to others, yet tell them nice things. But sometimes, it happened and in those moments, I could feel my heart filling with a sweet sensation.

"I'm waiting for you Quatre, ok? Wait for a little, it's gonna be ok. How do you feel?"

"My shoulder hurts," I winced with a low and scratchy voice when I felt the pain returning to my brain. Slowly, listening to Trowa had me coming back from the limpo of my Heart. "Guess it bled too much, I'm feeling dizzy-"  
"Hang on."

I snereed a little at his words. "No choice! I don't want to die like that."

He had a calm and soft laughter, something I reraly heard or him. "Glad to hear that."

A feeling of fear and worrying at the same time hit me and for a second I wondered if I was reaching Towa's heart through the microphone-

"Winner! Oh god, thanks god you're alive!"

But no. From my foetal position, I could only see Sally Po's dark boots but I knew her voice.

"Who's it?" I heard Trowa aked right away.

"Sally," I breathed. "She's here. I'm off guys..."

"Wait, Quatre, don't cut the-"

I rolled on my back, coughing at the effort and whining a little. I hated that type of second effect my power had on me, my whole body tensed and sore. The earpiece had fallen from my ear and I could still hear his voice calling from far in the microphone.  
Sally kneeled by my side. "Remember me, Winner?"

"How not to." I smiled. "Glad to see you..."

"Don't be a sweetheart when you're in such a situation," she sighed. "The helicopter is coming soon, Une's gonna help us."

"Thank you."

Actually, I don't remember anything from after this moment. Maybe her voice calling for me after I passed out.

I wanted Trowa's voice to call for me like that. Not with that calm tone of his, even thought I liked it so much.

But, sometimes, I wanted him to scream for me.

What a fool.

It was going to kill me someday, for sure.


	5. Faded Roses Part One

_Yaaay, back again! This chapter took me a little longer to write but between time, work, lack of motivation and stuff...UH ! I hope that you'll like it, and this time I need a second chapter for this part! ;D So stay by meeeeee ! As usual, tell me anything you want in comment, I love reading you all ! *danses*_

 _ **Faded Roses [Part One]**_

 **AC195**

"Are you ok?" I asked.

The sound of his body thrown on the floor had me wince inwardly for him. The boy was coughing a little, but not asking for any help so I let him do as he wanted and didn't move a finger. I was used to the darkness of my cell, sitting in the corner of my weak small bed, and I quickly recognized _him_ as he rolled slowly on his back, probably trying to get his thoughts back together. I hadn't seen since the day he opened his cockpit. Since that night I had spent to that huge and rich house, full of Manganac men all devoted to him.

"I'm a bit, uh... I don't know actually," he muttered. "Dazed I guess, let me a second..."

His gaze was going everywhere in the cell, I would have rather said that he was completly lost.

With a deep sigh, he sat on his bottom, rubbing his arms with a slow hand. At the first sight, I thought that Quatre Raberba Winner was dirty as hell, dark dust and probably mud stuck to his features, his hair, his clothes. He wasn't wearing the same clothes as the first and last time we met, changing his pink shirt and purple waistcoat to a simple white tank top. It was rather weird actually with the weather outside. It was a freezing month of December, and my own old pull-over wasn't enough to protect me from the cold in the cell. He shivered once, but quickly put his lips together, tightly.

"Came for the same mission as me I guess?" I asked, half interested by his answer. He nodded quietly, his gaze finally resting on his laps, a thin smirk still lingering on his lips.  
"Hum, yeah," he added to the nod. "I guess OZ lost a huge amount of mobile suits again!"

He laughed a little before coughing weirdly, and I had to wonder if he as really fine. But I didn't move, letting him take his marks in the cell. He first winced when he stood up, winced again when he stepped, winced even more when he reached the second faux bed, sitting on the fragile metal frame.

"Did they hurt you?" Even if I had been as neutral as I had always been, his eyes flicked to me. It didn't even last for a second and he almost immediatly transfered his attention to the wall in front of him.

"Just a little," he murmured.

I didn't really like Quatre Raberba Winner.

So I didn't care so much about his answers, even if I couldn't get why I was trying to keep the discussion on. There was something. Something with him was pretty annoying me and somehow his answers weren't what I was expecting. It was frustrating, like that day in his huge house, when I wasn't allowed to know what was happening to him in the middle of the night.

"But I did the mission," he suddenly added. I gave him a look, and his genuine smile abruptly hit me.

Or maybe it was because of the violent light from the corridor when a soldier opened the door. The white ray blinded us for a few second, but soon the figure in the opening of the door darkened it and I blinked, trying to discern who was here.

"Fourth pilot, you're coming," a slow voice said.

I didn't talk, letting my gaze slide to Quatre who was silent. I watched his thin body unfold and leave the bed without a word, his expression as neutral as...Mine. It was like watching the weirdest thing ever, even if we had the same orders in such a situation.

But, you know, there was something even more terrible than looking at his lack of feelings.

Quatre Raberba Winner's face was half covered with dried blood. The commissure of his lips, his round cheekbone, the corner of his eye.

His neck.

His collarbone.

It was like it had splashed on his skin at many times. Eye. Cheek. Mouth. Three times. Did he kill? Did he stab someone so violently that their blood skipped to his face? _Did Quatre stab someone?_ I couldn't picture that boy with a knife or something in his hands. Not even a gun by the way.

But I couldn't picture Quatre driving a Gundam and he was probably better than me at it: he succeeded in the mission I had failed.

I swallowed deeply before I could take it back. His hand resting nonchalantly on his other arm fell by his side and I couldn't help but give a look again. But this time, I wasn't able to say if it was his blood or not.

The cuffs claped around his wrist as they were taking him outside of the cell.

Quatre had given me a short look, his lips tightening in a thin line before they left.

I shouldn't have let them take him, I knew it. But I couldn't do anything else, right? After all, it was him or me. What a choice!

I sighed, looking at his bed. He had left an amount of dirt on the sheets, and it took me a few minutes before I come closer and accept the fact that I was rubbing some half coagulated blood.

 _Shit._

I sighed at the idea of one of us, Gundam pilots, injured. It wasn't easy to go through a questioning from the Alliance or OZ when you're healthy like me - I had a few buises on the first days after being caught, but at the moment the only injuries I had on my body were from the soldiers while hey were trying to get something from me - so I couldn't imagine if Quatre was already injured. Would they beat him using his weakness? They could do it, and we knew that perfectly. Would he, Quatre, take it?

I moved a little, walking to the door. The small hatch was closed so I couldn't give a look in the corridor. They might be far from the cells for the questioning so I couldn't hear them either.

The silence overwhelming me at that moment was scary somehow. I didn't hear anything. No voice. No footstep. Were the guardians away?

The waiting was pretty long according to me , and when the opened the door again, I was lying down on my bed, like I was befre they throw Quatre in the cell earlier in the day. The did the same, his messy body meeting the floor violently. Even after they close the door, he still wasn't moving.

Was he dead or something?

"Hey," I called.

He didn't react - actually I wasn't really expecting him to, only his voice would have been enough to know if he was ok. Sitting on the adge of the bed, I leaned a little, but as I was to far from the boy, I walked to him. I didn't really hope that he was ok. Just, not dead would be enough.

I thrummed the top of his shoulder with the tip of a finger, maybe as if he was an animal. I wasn't used to physical contacts, so I didn't feel confident.

Plus, I didn't like Quatre Raberba Winner, the Newtype who piloted a Gundam. I hadn't forget that part about him, even if I had no real prooves of it. I hated Newtypes. What did the doctors think by sending a fucking Newtype on Earth to save the world, really?

"Hey!" I called louder.

I felt his muscles tense under my finger, and I immediatly relaxed. He was alive.

"Can move?"

I heard him breath out. I couldn't see his face so well, his body turned on the side was such a mess between the blood, bruises, dirty clothes, his limbs upside down after they left him on the floor. He coughed a little, then a little more and for a second I thought he was about to puke. Taking him suddenly by the shoulders, I forced him in a sitting position, kneeling by his side as he was trying to reach his own mouth with his hand, probably to cover it as some blood was spilled on his laps and floor.

"They didn't go easy," I sighed.

He nodded slowly, finally only sweeping his bottom lips with the back of his hand. "Yeah, they felt better after hitting a weak person...I guess."

I took the 'I guess' he added, but this time I choosed not to give a fuck to that subect. "Something's broken?"

He winced hard but silently when I started palpating his arms, legs, but when my hand landed on his upper body he almost screamed and beat my hands off.

"Hey hey," I growled. "How grateful, I'm trying to help you."

"S-sorry," he murmured. Under the blood on his cheek, his skin was slightly red due to the shame of his own reaction. "Just, uh, it hurts..."

"How much?"  
He hesitated, lips tightening like when the soldier had been taking him with them. Resignation. And there, I knew that feeling of his, when you have to admit something you don't want to. Pain was for the weaks, not for soldiers. Obviously, Quatre knew it, or he had his own reasons to not want to say it out loud.

"A lot?" I helped. After another hesitation, he nodded a little and I found him funny this time. That guy was just some rich kid trying to act like a big soldier.

But all that blood on his body always made me wonder even more about him. His white tank top was rather clean, at least more than his so fashionable maroon trousers. I didn't remember the blood on it the first time they throwed him in the cell, so it had to be from his walk out.

"Need something?" I offered. Even if he was a spoiled rich kid, a interrogatory was still a interrogatory.

"Water...," he breathed.

After making sure that he wouldn't fall back on the floor if I realease him, I quickly grabbed a bottle of water near the door. But when I reached him again, he hadn't made a move, except for his hand plated on his mouth again.

"Want to puke?"

He just expired as an answer, eyes shut and it was even a better answer than talking.

"Guess I don't have the choice," I sighed, sliding an arm around his body to help him reach the old and disgusting toilet bowl, and he was almost there when I felt his stomach against my arm twitch like hell. "Oh man, hold on!" And his hand tightened around his own face, stronger, and I was sure it would leave red marks on his white skin. Amazing, don't puke on me, right?

"I might know where they hit you," I said while watching him vomit in the dirty ceramic bowl. He hadn't even totally reached it that the mix of smell and view of how disgusting it was, had made him rush to it and fill it right away. Well, I couldn't say anything about it. It was stinky like hell, sticky, and everytime I had to pee or vomit or anything, I tried to avoid the moment I had to come close to that thing. We'd propably get sick by using it, by the way. The idea itself was making me nauseus.

Quatre coughing through his nausea made me grimace quite a lot despite myself, the smell of the acid bile reaching my nostrils. The sound of his breathless respiration filled the air, his hands tense on the edge of the basin. A new wave was coming soon, I could get it by the looks on his face, by his clenched teeth, by the tears at the corner of his eyes and the way he was trying to breath. The effort, the tireness, the interrogatory, the fights earlier with his Gundam, all of this might have been too much to him.

He wasn't a soldier, after all.

I sighed, leaning on his back to reach his forehead with a hand and take his front hair back with my fingers. I felt his body jump a little but the new wave of vomit just took him too busy for something else than being surprise by my gesture. His forehead was sweaty under my palm when I smoothed the pale blond strands of hair back on his head. His skin was moist, and as I was pushing a little against his back with my upper legs I could feel a shiver along his spine.

"Are you cold?" I asked.

I was trying to talk despite the smell of both us -I was pretty sure that I would end smelling the same as him- but it was hard. Between my fingers, I felt Quatre's head move a little but I couldn't get if he was nodding or shaking. I realised a second later, when my other hand met the cold skin of one of his arms, goosebump appearing right away.

Of course, he was cold.

"Sorry," I murmured.

He shrugged, in a way I couldn't really define. Like you don't care that I'm sorry? Like you don't care that I care? Like you forgive me for saying something stupid?

His tank top showed his shoulder blades and I let my gaze run on it. The shape of his shoulders, his neck appearing under his short pale blond hair, everything I could get of him.

"What happened, Quatre?" I kept my voice as low as possible, feeling like he could break under my words. There was something.

Quatre Raberba Winner was puny. I mean, his body was undeveloped, skinny and probably sick. After the last two months, I didn't feel like I was watching the same Quatre than the first time, the one opening his cockpit to stop a useless fight.

The one screaming at night.

I stopped breathing at the memory, unsure of anything anymore about him.

He coughed again, his arms suddenly tightening aroung his own body. I was pretty sure that if he hadn't been above the basin, he would have curled his body in a ball to keep the warm as much as possible.

"They rejected us." His voice finally came out, low, almost a whisper. I leaned a little more on him, feeling his back tense against my chest, so I could hear him better. The smell of bile, vomit and alluvials was unsufferable and I felt my stomach convulse in disapproval and as a way to protect my nose I burried the low part of my face in the crook of his neck. His thin muscles instinctively contracted but he didn't step back nor tried to get rid of me.

His neck smelt like a mix of salted sweat and perfum, the second was so old and almot gone that it took me some time to find what it was.

"Our colony rejected us," he continued after he plit again in the basin.

"You?" I whispered against his skin.

He nodded, his breathy voice coming out again. "Most of the dirigeants of L4 don't agree with the use of Gundams to bring the peace back..."

I frowned a little. Something in what he was saying sounded weird in my ears. "But those dirigeants are..."

"The Winners."

"They're your own family..."

"They don't mind," he sighed. "We'll be pariah soon. They have a colony to protect, values to spread. They know what they do."

It was my turn to sigh at his words. I didn't like the way things where going.

"And you?"

I felt his shoulder fall a little under my weight, discontract so it gave more room for my face to hide in his neck. He inspired deeply. I felt his throat muscles move a little when he tried to swallow his saliva and I'm pretty sure that he winced due to the bitter taste behind his tongue.

"I know what I have to do," he said wth a poor and scratchy voice.

I didn't know what to do. I could feel his devotion to his family in his voice and at the same time there was that will to fight for the world he wanted to bring to life. Like me. Like the three others.

I didnt know what to do. I could hear the soft sniff coming from him when he was probably trying to hold it back. I could feel his heartbeats racing in his chest against mine.

I didn't know wat to do, so I simply closed my arms around his shoulders and burried my whole face in his neck, breathing deeply. Inhaling his despair hadn't been one of my project and that idea kind of lingered for a while in a corner of my mind.

Quatre Raberba Winner's neck smelt like faded roses.


	6. Faded Roses Part Two

_Here is the second chapter for "Faded Roses"! *3* I really hope you like it, I keep working on that serie with so much joy and all! As usual, comments and opinions are welcome!_

 _Love on you all!_

 ** _Faded Roses [Part Two]_**

 **[AC 195]**

"Gonna vomit-"

"Vomit or pee, but make a choice in the end."

It wasn't the first time I heard Quatre complain and if I could understand him pretty well, it was also annoying at some point. It had been a few hours since he had joined me in the cell, and one of the thing we had to agree soon about was...The toilets and the privacy. The lavatory was in a dark corner of our cell, what most of the time saved us from the awful smell. Technically, I had no problem with someone watching me while I was doing what I had to do, I had been used to share weird rooms with other mercenaries who didn't really care if there was already someone in the toilets -and most of the time they actually didn't have the time to care.

But Quatre Raberba Winner wasn't a mercenary. He wasn't even a soldier, and at the moment, he was even sick and injured. Thankfully OZ hadn't called for him a second time on this day, they didn't even care to call for me.

And the smell of that corner was the worst thing we had ever known, for god's sake. I couldn't really put it on him after all.

"Easy to say," I heard him mumble. The sound of the zip of his trousers let me know that he was _finally_ done. "How can you, uh, do this so easily, I wonder..."  
"I don't mind about my body so much," I sighed. "You're over conscious of people."

Quatre Raberba Winner was a quiet boy. He let himself fall on the edge of his bed, shoulders down. "Probably," he agreed with me. "I'm not used to this..."

"That's some weakness of yours. Go over it. Smell and people watching you when you pee."

I didn't give him the time to get red and hide his face; laying on my bed, I closed my eyes, trying to convince myself that under this thin blancket I wasn't cold. I wasn't cold at all. My dark pull-over wasn't thin as hell. I-

I cracked an eye open to give Quatre a look when I heard the sound of his matress yelling under the weight of his body. His tank top couldn't hide the way his skin had started showing his shoulders off and I remembered the feeling when he was between my arms earlier. He wasn't a skeleton, thanks god, or he wouldn't be able to fight. But if his health wasn't in danger at the moment, it was just a question of time. Injured the way he was, Quatre wouldn't be able to fight back if something had to happen. That was certainly the reason why they got him, by the way.

His back was facing me from under the poor brown blancket. Even in the dark I could see the shape of his body, the way he was trying so hard not to turn into a ball to protect himself from the outside, from the feeling of the cell, from the cold, from the silence surrounding both us.

His breath was almost shivery when I was listening to it, but I didn't mind too much. It had nothing to see with me.

"You said you completed the mission."

My own voice made me wince, but the body not so far finally moved, his face turning to my side. I knew that two huge oean eyes were trying to watch me in the dark. Strands of hair were falling on his face hiding a part of his cheek.

"I did."

"But they got you."

"Uh, yeah...I figured...I figured that I could get some informations fom the inside here, so I-"

"Where you alone?"

"Hum, yeah. Destroying twenty mobile suits didn't need more than just my Gundam for this mission."

His voice was slow compare with usually. He was tired, I couldhear it. After another chat for a few minutes, I finally got what had happened. Quatre had undergone the mission pretty well : destruction of OZ's mobile suits, as usual, where I myself had failed due to a certain lack of munitions. But he'd wanted to over work a little, entering the military base with some curiosity. I wasn't so surprised that they got him. Not even wondering how he ended with so many injuries. The smell of blood emanating from his body had reached my bed already. But we couldn't help. They wouldn't cure him, of course, or they would have done it already.

In the end, we were silent again. I figured that the guy needed to rest, and I needed the same or kind of. I wasn't one to talk a lot, of course. But at the moment thissience sounded like the weirdest thing ever. Maybe because I was with Quatre? I couldn't understand him pretty well, and not being able to know what he really was something really frustrating.

"Are you ok?" I finally asked.

"I want to vomit again. But I'm ok I gues."

"Did they hit you that bad?"

"Uh, probably."

"Rachid's gonna reprimand you," I laughed a little at the idea of the giant Maganac scolding at Quatre, fists on his hips.

Quatre huffed softly. "God, I'm not so impatient to see him then."

It made me raise an eyebrow despite myself. "Wait, are you joking?"

"What about?"

"Reprimanding like a baby."

His light laughter at that moment made a long shiver go along my spine, and he turned on his back. "He's like a father with me. I let it to your imagination."

The bitter tone of his voice kept me from saying something else about this subject. I didn't know so much about family and all that. I didn't know at all, actually, and I didn't intend to shittalk about such a thing I didn't care about in the first place.

"You need to sleep," I finally said.

"You're right."

We didn't talk much more after that, silence rising again. Honestly, I was exhausted. Being interrogating wasn't resting at all, plus staying here with the stress and frustration for not being able to do anything didn't help.

I was cold, again, and for a second I wondered how Quatre was going through this little problem.

Then I stopped thinking about him and his body next to me. I just fell asleep, not so deeply but asleep nonetheless.

But...

Do you know what?

I think that sleeping not so far fom Quatre Raberba Winner isn't possible.

At first, I didn't really get what was happening. Something was troubling my sleep, for sure, but I wasn't sure what. I wasn't even dreaing or anything. Nor having any nightmare for once.

Something was happening, yeah. There was a sound. A voice. Well, not a voice really. I was still half asleep, trying to get my thoughts back together, until I remembered that I wasn't alone. It was still as dark as usual here, without even a small window.

The soft panting next to me eventually reached my ears pretty soon, making me stop trying to drowse back and hold my own breath for a few seconds. It was _him_ , of course, so close to my so-called bed.

I tried to ignore him at first, act like I didn't notice anything. There was the sound of his body moving under the blancket, the sound of his chaotic breath. I first thought about something rather pervert, I have to admit it, and the idea of having Quatre Raberba Winner masturbating next to me was quite weird, let me tell you. Weird wasn't even the word. I couldn't describe that feeling, when I had that first idea in mind.

But the soft throated sob that followed right after didn't match pretty well with such a thing and I immediatly turned to face him.

"Quatre?" I called. I didn't raise my voice, aware that sometimes, guys like him may just talk in their sleep or so. I hoped that it was just a nightmare, something like that.  
He was facing me, I could picture the shape of his trembling body, I could almost discern his face in the dark.

I could see the way his eyebrows tightly frowned, eyes opened wide. His mouth half opened, as if he was desperatly seeking for air. Laying on his side, he only showed that part of his face covered with blood.

Fuck.

"Hey, hey, what is it?" I tried again.

I couldn't sleep with something like that by my side. I would rather prefer having him quietly polish his dick.

He didn't reply and it was annoying me. Again. So I stood up, walked the small distance between the two beds -not even a meter- and kneeled to be the same height than his face.  
"Quatre?" I sighed this time.

My voice was probably more audible this time as I was closer to him; he jumped, with a soft gasp, mouth opening and closing quickly. Eyes even wider now. I saw one of his hands rolled into a fist on his collarbones, pushing hard on his skin. In the dark I couldn't see the colors clearly but I was pretty sure that it was reddening his pale, white tone of skin.

"I-" He started something, but never was able to continue his sentence.

Was he really trying to say something, I still wonder.

He just wasn't able to properly breath at the moment, and the expression on his face, the way he was trembling so hard, the way his eyes were avoiding me right now, I knew.  
He was panicking.

Soon, I knew his hard breathing was more a problem due to hyperventilating. Fuck it.

"Hey, come on, what's going on?" I restrained myself from yelling at him, simply hissing between my teeth while pulling on the thin blancket covering his body.

I knew pretty well what was happening, of course. But I also knew that type of problem, anxiety attacks were not something to take with violence and mockery.

His knees up to his chest, Quatre didn't protest when I sat on the edge of his bed. He was avoiding me. I could see, I could _feel_ his shame as I had found him this way.  
He probably could see through me, probably already knew what I thought about it and get why I was talking that slow. I assumed, at least.

 _Fucking Newtype_.

"I have a story," I murmured. I knew anyway those moments when you can't help and you mind and body don't match together anymore and you don't know if you're going to die or something. I knew that feeling, when you're alone in the dark, lost, scared.

What answered to me was that panting and heavy breath of his. He blinked a little, trying to avoid my hands when I cupped his head to set his on my knees.

I sighed.

His hand had automatically clenched on the fabric of my trousers. I just hoped it wouldn't ruin it.

"I'm not sure if I can start with 'once upon a time'," I mumbled, more for myself than for him after all, but still here I was, speaking slowly with a low voice. I wasn't sure if there were soldiers behind the metal door, but if so, I didn't really want them to hear what was happening here.

I doubted that Quatre would appreciate.

I hated the sound of his breathing.

It attacked my ears, made me want to tear it off my head's sides. I knew that pain pretty well.

"But there was that boy. You know, he didn't have a name, not even a story. Well, he had nothing, if I had to say..."

If it wasn't for the sound emanating from him, I noticed how quiet was Quatre. He didn't move, except for his body trembling like hell. I coud feel the cold of his fingers through my jeans.

I leaned a little above him, took the blancket and pulled it back on his body.

"But someone found him. It probably wasn't the best thing in the world, but still, he had a place to live at...It wasn't so bad. Cold and silent and noisy at the same time."

The strands of hair falling on his face were coated with sweat and blood, and I found myself trying to untangle the dirty blond hair I could get in view.

"There were a lot of mercenaries, they taught him everything he needed to know. He worked a lot to be trustable enough and so he could work with them as soon as possible..."

"W-what for?"

Quatre's voice was so low I almost had to lean on him to hear his words. His breathy voice hit me somehow. I leaned anyway, choose to whisper instead of speaking loudly. According to the situations, I knew it could be better, a way to securise his mind. The stress of all that, the place, his unabilities, the pain, the cell, the smell, the fact that we were together in this dark room, the cold, everything was here to make him panic and loose his means.

I knew it.

"To live," I murmured.

I heard the small sound when he manage to swallow. I could almost picture the heavy lump deep in his throat.

I leaned a little more, using my flexibility as much as I could until I was able to feel his febrile breathing on my face.

"He had to learn how to kill, how to use himself as a tool to complete missions like others do," I continued ith a low voice.

Blue. Green. I couldn't define his eyes color at that moment. Sometimes, he was staring at me. Probably staring at my lips while I was talking. It was disturbing. Sometimes, he was avoiding my gaze, like right now when I was trying to look at him, to know if he was feeling better. The sound of his breathing was still worrying to me.

"But do you know what was weird?" I heard myself sigh. He'd clenched his teeth for so long now, trying so hard to control himself. "He was alone. No matter how many people were around him, he was alone with himself. It was scary."

I didn't care that much about what I was actually saying. It was a part of my story and I didn't mind so much. If I could use it to make him focus on something else than his own condition at the moment, it was ok.

"Didn't you have...Someone to talk with?" he suddenly whispered.

I first tightened my lips hard. Fuck you, Quatre.

I noticed that one of my hands had moved to his chest to hold him better when I felt his heart started beating so hard right after his question and everything at the moment finally sounded weird. I don't even know why. Maybe because of our proximity, maybe because of the way I was angled above his body.

I shrugged a little. "Once. But she was a spy and betrayed us all. Me in the first place, by the way."

He remained silent, what wasn't his habit, I was sure.

Despite the darkness, Quatre looked a little less pale, for his voice being still hoarse.

"But he-" I frowned a little, then restart my sentence. "But I grew up and learnt how to get stronger and stronger, even alone. It wasn't easy, of course. Maybe things would have been so much better if someone had been by my side, of course. But everytime I wasn't alone, something awful had to happen, mostly due to that said person. Traitors, spies, murderers..." I shrugged again when I felt a shiver going alone his body under my hand. It probably was hard for him to hear those kind of things. Quatre came from a rich family, with father and mother, probably sisters if I remembered well what I knew about the so famous Winners. "There's a time when you have to understand that being alone is the best for you."

I was talking a lot, what was unusual, but it seemed to be working at least.

His gaze at that moment was something I wouldn't forget. Even in the dark, his green apples suddenly stared at me, with parted lips and-

I blinked.

Green. Green? His eyes never were really green until that moment. Quatre had blue eyes, like the ocean, that type of blue you can wonder for hours if it's going to turn green someday but it never does.

I wasn't stupid.

But for a few minutes, I had forgotten who I was talking to and somehow, it drove me mad. Mad at myself for being so carefree in such a situation. Quatre was a Newtype.

Quatre could be an enemy at any moment.

I was comforting a stranger, a potential enemy.

I abruptly covered his eyes with my hand, suddenly feeling frustrated by the situation, and the surprised sound he made while gripping my fingers didn't help. "T-Trowa...!"

 _Stop whining like that, you're pathetic._

But I couldn't go back.

"I Just want to say that you're not alone. You have a family, probably friends. Disowning you is just a way they have to show that they don't agree with you. They'll come back."

I was too nice. And it was annoying me so much.

There was a long silence after that. He didn't move, and so I did, staying in the same position. I coud feel his eyelashes flap softly under my palm. The sound of his breathing, almost slow and calm, was soothing now.

There were just those soft sobs, and wet tears against my skin.

"Not alone, uh...?" He repeated. His usual clear voice sounded a little scratchy, he sniffed a little to refrain himself from crying. In vain, of course, he was already crying like a baby.

I sighed, taking the small distance until my forehead touched his. His skin was so cold.

"Nh," I just said. His desperated voice was something terrible and resonated in my ears, his sobs were even worse.

I inspired for a second, the light fragrance of roses hitting my nostrils, and I swallowed.

I used to like roses so much.

"Ah," I added after a moment as Quatre was shivering again. "How comes you don't have more clothes on you?"

"They took it with my guns and all when they asked me to take them off."

I blinked, trying to picture the scene. "Eh?"

"They thought I had weapons or something under, maybe...i'm not sure."

"Really?"

"I guess?"

His fingers on mine weren't trying to take my hand off his face anymore, just resting skin against skin.

I couldn't move.

It probably was one of his Newtype abilities.

At least, I hoped it was something like that.

I sighed, hesitating. Somehow, what he'd just said wasn't benign and I had quite the images of pervert soldiers in my mind, looking at him while he was half undressing, covered with blood and sweat, his mind all dizzy from the battle.

Disgusting.

"Trowa...?"

"Wait a second."

I squirmed as much as possible, taking my hands off his face and body to pull as quick as possible on my own pull-over. I didn't want this to last forever, I didn't want him to stare at me with so big eyes for too long.

Right after I manage to exit my head from the turtle neck, I spread it on his upper body, ignoring his weak protestings.

"Sorry, it stinks. But it's a bit warmer than your blanket," I mumbled.

My hands were back on place, the first on his eyes to half cover his face and hide myself from his view, the other one on him, seeking for his heartbeat against the tip of my fingers.

His hands reached for my hand on his face. I could feel the hot skin of his cheeks under my palm, but I only sighed.

It was annoying.

"It...It's ok," he breathed. "Sorry, I'm dirty..."

"You should sleep, or perverts migh abuse you easily soon."

"Eh!?" he almost jumped at it, even if not really moving, and well, it was funny.

"Nothing. Rest."

I'm pretty sure that I had use all my word quota of the year in just one night because of him.

I inspired deeply, not sure about what I was going to do in the next hours. I'd leaned back above him to feel the heat of his body, shivering under the cold air of the cell on my skin. Next time, I would have to buy not only a new big pull-over but also a top to put under, just in case.

"Trowa?"

Why was he still talking? I sighed. "Mh?"

There was that mix of blood, sweat and his scent.

"You're...Not alone...You know?"

"Sleep."

I liked Quatre's smell. Even when it was much more like dead roses in the end of the day.

Roses were roses.


End file.
